


Gravity Falls One-shots

by MyExWifeStillMissesMe1



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Dipper Has PTSD, Dipper Pines-centric, Gen, Others aren’t tho, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, cybernetic limbs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26541178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyExWifeStillMissesMe1/pseuds/MyExWifeStillMissesMe1
Summary: A series of one-shots, some will be set during the show, some not. Others will be set in my After The End series but the notes at the start of each chapter will specify. Requests are welcome and I will do AUs.
Relationships: Dipper Pines & Ford Pines & Mabel Pines & Stan Pines, Jesus "Soos" Alzamirano Ramirez & Dipper Pines & Mabel Pines, Wendy Corduroy & Dipper Pines
Kudos: 13





	1. The Real Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper faces the consequences of his actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in the aftermath of ‘Sock Opera.’

Stan watched as everyone got up and left the theatre. Dipper looked like a zombie. He was as white as a sheet and had bags bigger than Mount Everest under his eyes. He also had cuts all over his face and the arms of his reverend costume were stained with blood. If Stan didn’t know any better, he’d have thought his nephew was drunk due to the way he was swaying on his feet with every step he took. Mabel walked over to him and started helping him to the door.

“Jesus kid, what happened?” _This is not going to be their version on the science fair. I won’t let them make my mistakes._ Stan thought.

“Dipper’s just tired, that’s all.” Mabel smiled. ‘And he got mad – and rightfully so, to be honest – about me taking his journal without asking for my play. It’s all my fault.”

“… n-no it-t is-n’-t.” Dipper’s voice was barely audible and he was stammering so much he could genuinely pass as a broken record. As it turns out, not sleeping for a week straight and being possessed by a demon had some side-effects. One of which was the fact that reassuring Mabel sapped what little energy he had left, before he fell to the floor unconscious.

“We need to get him to a hospital.” Stan said, not giving a second thought about the bill. _This is like, the one time I’ve ever wished to be British._ The voice inside his head mumbled.

Mabel nodded vigorously. If you looked closely, you could see a tear welling up in the corner of her eye. “Yeah. Come on Dipper. You’re going to be okay.” She put her ear to his chest and listened for a heartbeat. It was steady. That was good? Probably?

Dipper was slipping in and out of consciousness and he was barely aware of being shoved into the back seat of the Stanleymobile. His seatbelt was pulled over him by… Stan? Maybe, he couldn’t tell. His sight was blurry and he couldn’t see a thing. _Am I going to go blind? Is that what he does to you? I can definitely see more out of my right eye though._ He was barely aware of a hand repeatedly tapped on his face.

“Dipper!” Mabel’s voice echoed through his head. “Dipper, wake up! Please!” He could hear her sobbing and Stan flooring the accelerator. The car jerked forward and his head hit the back of the seat, not that he could even feel it.

“Mabel…” He managed to get out.

“ROAD SAFETY LAWS PREPARE TO BE IGNORED!” Stan shouted.

That was the last thing Dipper heard before everything went black.

* * *

Stan and Mabel sat in the waiting room biting their lips. It had been two hours since they had wheeled Dipper away. “So you’re tellin’ me,” Stan said. “That he got possessed by some triangle demon that also happened to go inside my head?”

“Earlier.” Mabel’s voice was muffled, due to the fact that she had been in sweater town ever since she had given up on trying to force her way to the medical ward. “Earlier this summer.”

“Christ on a bike.” Her grunkle muttered.

“Are you the Pines?” An older nurse asked as she walked up to them. Maybe late fifties, early sixties. Right up Stan’s street. Usually, he’d be chasing her faster than a cheetah running after a kangaroo but right now he couldn’t bring himself to. He cleared his throat and locked eyes with the lady.

“Yeah.”

“You can see him now.”

Mabel immediately jumped out of sweater town in one fluid motion and dashed along the corridor. She slid around the corner (drifting not to dissimilar to Bugs Bunny) and opened the door. Dipper was lying on the bed in a medical gown, his arms wrapped in bandages. Mabel immediately jumped on him and hugged him tighter than was humanly possible. Dipper was certainly more alert now.

“Mabel…”

 _Huh,_ Stan thought. _At least he can string together a coherent sentence._

“… I’m sorry. I ruined everything and-” He stopped talking and resorted to wetting his sister’s sweater with tears.

* * *

Later that night, Stan looked at the twins. They were back at the Mystery Shack. Mabel was sleeping soundly on her bed and on first glance Dipper was too. On closer inspection Stan realised that the boy was pretending to be asleep sobbing into his pillow. “Kid,” Stan started. He wasn’t sure what to say. Being possessed would leave a mark on most people. Being possessed at the age of twelve should probably scar him for life. Just as he was about to say something, Dipper got up and ran down the stairs. “Wait!” Stan shouted as he followed him. When he got down, he couldn’t find Dipper anywhere. Then he heard a quiet sniffling sound. It was coming from the living room, but he – the secret compartment! Stan rushed over and pulled it open. Dipper was sitting there curled up in a ball. He looked like he’d just ran a marathon.

“Just leave me alone.”

Stan looked at his sobbing nephew. “Mabel told me. About B-” He stopped himself as Dipper looked at him for the first time since… well he couldn’t remember when. He probably had a PTSD or something. Better get that checked out. “Him.” He decided on.

“Leave me alone, please. I just need some…”

Stan sighed. “Alright kid. I’ll be here if’ya need me.” He sat down on the couch as Dipper pulled the door shut. “I’ll be here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might do another one about the aftermath of Sock Opera. I was watching Skyfall recently and I like ether idea that Bond hid in the trapdoor after his parents died. Then I thought, “the Mystery Shack has a trapdoor!” and went from there.


	2. 10,080 Minutes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper reaches his breaking point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during Weirdmageddon Part 1. Some gore and death here and there.

Dipper trudged through the ruined remains of the Gravity Malls and held his stomach. He was starving. He’d been running for half an hour now, trying to evade 8-Ball and Teeth. He’d finally lost them. He’d never ran so fast in his life. _Complete and utter terror definitely acted as a motivator._ He thought as he collapsed onto a bench due to sheer exhaustion. His legs had finally given in. His breathing was short and raspy, like nails on a blackboard. His throat was dry. He hadn’t drank in almost three days now. _If I don’t find some water soon, I’m gonna die of dehydration._ His brain mused. He was twelve, he was too young to die. He felt at his side, and his hand came away stained with blood. So that’s where the pain had been coming from. He went to get up, but it was futile.

He was going to die.

He was only twelve.

And he was going to die.

 _No!_ He told himself. _Come on Dipper, come on! You have to hold on for a bit longer. Just a bit longer. Just a bit longer, for Mabel._

_For Grunkle Ford._

_For Grunkle Stan._

_For Wendy._

_For Soos._

_For your parents._

_You can survive, you have to! You have to._ He cut his train of thought off as he burst into tears. He couldn’t believe that this was happening. This was his fault.

Mabel was missing, possibly dead. No! He couldn’t think of the worst case scenario.

Ford was captured.

Stan was missing.

Wendy was missing.

Soos was missing.

He was alone, Bill had won. He’d read the lot of them like a fucking book. _This is all my fault._ He sobbed. _If I had just thought about Mabel for a second this never would have happened. This is all my fault. Maybe I should just give myself up to him. The world would be better off without me. Because of me, they’ll all die. Maybe he’ll make it quick. Put me out of my misery. No, he wouldn’t._ He wiped a tear from his face. _He’d make it slow and painful. I probably deserve it. There’s no point trying. He’s won, he’s all powerful._

He felt his life slowly draining away as he laid down on the bench.

He was dying, that was for sure.

These were his last moments, that was for sure.

He deserved it, that was for sure.

Just then, he heard the sound of water splashing. That’s when he remembered: there was a fountain in the mall! He rolled off the bench and his head hit the floor. He grimaced in pain as a small pool of blood spilled out the back of his skull.

Dipper clutched his head as he crawled across the floor, mere minutes away from death. The fountain was just in sight – barely – but it was there. Everything was blurry as he got closer and closer. Ford had said that there was a way to kill Bill. There was a way, he wasn’t invincible. _So stop stewing in your suicidal thoughts and get on with it Dipper. Mabel needs you. The whole world needs you._ He pulled himself over the rim of the fountain and dunked his head in, taking a huge gulp of water. Dirty and horrible water, but water nonetheless. He coughed, then immediately went back for more. He stood up shakily and dunked his bloodstained hands into the water, then patted the back of his head. Wincing, he used the water to clean it (it probably didn’t make much of a difference, but hey-ho). He dropped his vest to the floor and pulled his shirt off to inspect the cut on his side. It was deep and it hurt like hell. It was going to scar for sure. He dabbed some water on it, careful not to push too hard. He picked up his shirt and dunked it in the fountain, then ringed it out. It was damp now, but not overly. He pulled it back on and slung his vest over his arms, then limped over to an arts and crafts store. He picked up a needle and some thread and lifted his shirt up.

 _Mabel does this all the time. It can’t be that hard._ He bit his lip and poked the needle through the skin at the edge of the tear in his side.

“AAARRGGHH!” He screamed. He continued the cycle of pain until it was stitched up. The work was crude, but it would do for now.

* * *

Weirdmageddon had affected all people from all backgrounds, from Old Man McGucket to Preston Northwest. A white sock burned with a small flame as it was rustled by the wind. The wind eventually got the better of it and the sock rolled up Main Street, stopping at the feet of a short brown-haired boy. Blood stained his face and hands, and there was a deep gash on his forehead. His shirt was completely soaked in blood and he was limping slightly. His knees were skinned and his right forearm was covered in a large burn mark. Dipper walked towards the History Museum and struggled up the steps, careful not to pop his stitches. He opened the door and walked through.

Which was a mistake.

A big mistake.

It was a bloodbath. Hundreds of blood covered corpses littered the floor. Men, women and children. Most were completely unrecognisable, their face rearranged or just removed entirely. There were people turned inside-out, people with their eyes gouged out and people who had been drawn and quartered. Some of them had patterns carved into them, like a ritualistic killing. The pattern consisted of lots of triangles with lines connecting them all over the body.

But the worst part was that Dipper knew these people. He didn’t know _all_ of them per se, but he recognised them. He’d seen them happy, living their lives. Lives that – because of his negligence – had been cut short. It was all to much for him to handle.

Dipper put a hand over his mouth and ran around the corner, where he promptly started puking his ring up. He coughed to try get the taste of vomit out of his mouth, then leaned against the wall.

* * *

Four Days Later

“It’s happening! Keep going!” Dipper told his sister.

“Okay, okay.” Mabel looked at her scrapbook again. “Day two. Grunkle Stan smells weird but we’re starting to bond. He told us a lot about being a businessman in the ‘80s and seemed happy when we pretended to listen!”

Ford chuckled.

“He also gave me a grappling hook that everyone is impressed by. And in more important news, I met some neighbourhood hotties.”

Dipper smiled as they all laughed in the ruins of the Mystery Shack.

“Hey guys.”

He turned his head to see Wendy standing there smiling.

“Wendy!” He shouted but as he ran over to her, he felt a sudden pain spring up his side and felt some skin on his side tear a tad. “AAAARGGHH!” He clutched his side and kneeled down as blood once again seeped into his shirt. He fell down onto the floor and was just barely aware of people crowding around him as his vision went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that got dark quick.


End file.
